


Upstaged

by Lavanya_Six



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Crossover, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:52:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavanya_Six/pseuds/Lavanya_Six
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the triads, desperate after being hammered by the Equalists, turn to the wrong person for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upstaged

The Wolfbats, humbled, went into the water.

Amon took a moment to enjoy the sight of his banners unfurling from the arena's rafters; another sign of the bending elite's impending doom.

Except they were no longer _his_ banners.

Defiled with rough strokes of white paint, the circular red emblem of the Equalists now smiled down on everyone. A moment later, another surprise joined them.

Screams filled the arena.

Between each smiley face banner, dangling from a length of rope, one of his flock hung dead.

_"Um, hi."_

Mouths gaping, the crowd looked all around for the location of the new speaker. Amon's fiddled with the announcer's microphone he was to have used. Dead. Someone else was in control.

_"We're sorry to interrupt tonight's entertainment, but it was just so... boring. Because we know what our little masked revolutionary is going to say. Benders are responsible for all the wars in the world. They kill everybody's parents. They keep the trains from running on time. Blah blah blah."_

In the stands, his Equalists were dueling with masked assailants. Some were tossing Sozin Sizzlers at Amon's brothers and sisters. Other were pulling the rags out of their Sizzlers, dousing themselves with the bottle's petrol mixture, lighting themselves on fire, and rushing at his Equalists. The ones that weren't fighting or holding the attendees at bay were killing the unconscious cops.

_"Amon here thinks he can do better. He wants to run Republic City. But can he make the tough calls?"_

"Sir." The Lieutenant, who had been down below taking care of the Avatar and her friends, limped onstage. "We have another problem."

Before he could ask what, the lights dimmed. Raging flames and the thick, greasy smoke of burning human fat cast the arena in savage colors, like something out of the Sun Warrior ritual sacrifices of old.

Then the spotlight turned on.

It focused on what had been the Fire Ferret's announcement platform. There, standing in the crisp white light, was the Avatar. She was bound in rope. A trio of masked men restrained her further. But she was not what drew Amon's attention. No, that was the man with the microphone: a ratty purple suit, green hair, skin caked in white paint, and a garish ruby smile plastered across his face.

He looked like a joke.

_"You had a chance to do your magic to the Avatar here the other night, but you didn't. That means she's important to you and your little scheme. But how important? Could any bender really be worth more to Amon than a non-bender? LET'S FIND OUT!"_ The clown pulled out a switchblade and held it against the Avatar's cheek. _"Either Amon personally kills that baton twirling mustached lackey of his in the next sixty seconds, or I get to work on the Avatar. Starting with putting a_ smile _on that face of hers. MHA HA HA HA HA!"_

"Sir," the Lieutenant rasped, the eyes of the crowd on them, "what are we going to do?"

Amon stared back at him.

"...Sir?"


End file.
